


Heart's Cradle

by Voido



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Post-Season/Series 03, Self-Doubt, Shapeshifter, the comfort takes a while but i promise its there, tumblr plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16431227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voido/pseuds/Voido
Summary: Somewhere deep inside, Keith knows he shouldn't be so affected by it.And yet, when a shapeshifter takes his form and faces not the slightest bit of hesitation before being shot down by Lance, there's a specific well-known mixture of feelings knocking on the door to Keith's mind.Anxiety. Uncertainty. The feeling of being in a place he doesn't belong.Sometimes, he isn't sure why he even still bothers trying.





	1. Suspicion

**Author's Note:**

> A nervous mess over posting her first fic in this fandom? Me?  
> It's more likely than you'd think.  
> This is actually based on a post on tumblr, but I won't link it YET because that would be spoilery! Maybe someone here has even seen it, though. :)  
> The story is set somewhere between seasons 3 and 4, with Keith as the leader of Voltron, but not yet 24/7-busy with the blade of Marmora. Something like that.

The mission objective had been simple — get in, shut down communication, return to the castle.

“What the hell!”

 _So_ simple, and maybe that should have been cue enough to realize that there was _something_ wrong in this place.

“Keith, did you- I mean! Tell me you saw that, like, did you?!”

“I saw,” he said angrily. In fact, he had even only barely managed to get away from the...whatever it was. The cut on his temple was proof of that. He sighed and continued: “Now shut up and prepare to _fight_ it!”

He flew around right after turning the next corner, blade raised high, ready to fight. Whatever it was that chased them through the ship, it was prepared, experienced and, worst of all, on their toes. The probability of them outrunning it was pitifully low, and to be quite frank about It, Keith didn’t really _want_ to. If he were to have his way, he’d rather kill it and bring the leftovers to Pidge and Coran for analysis.

His breath came rapidly, heartbeat increased, a dull drumming sound in his ears. Yet his mind was crystal clear and focused on battle. There was _something_ to be heard from the long corridor; something entirely different from the semi-liquid figure that had been trying to kill them. Something that sounded an awful lot more like footsteps. But even so, they were eerily slow, quiet, as if whoever was after them wasn’t in any kind of rush.

Keith dared a small peek over to Lance, making sure he wasn’t letting his guard down – he didn’t have to say anything, though, and instead took a deep breath, looking back to the corner, waiting impatiently. Could it be a trick? He was trying to consider all possibilities, but he couldn’t come up with any at least semi-logical reason for the Galra to let them board the ship, cut off the electricity, and _then_ perform some kind of action, especially in such a mocking way.

Deciding that who- or whatever it was, there was no way it had any good intentions, Keith took a deep breath, waited for it to try and turn the corner, and only didn’t slice it in half because the face greeting him was so strikingly familiar that his heart skipped at least one beat, and the intensity of himself holding his lunging arm back send him stumbling backwards.

“Shiro?! What are you doing here?”

Part of Keith was mad at the reveal. They hadn’t been able to contact the rest of the team for quite a while now, but if Shiro had been – for whatever reason – tasked to follow them here, why hadn’t he said a word.

“Yeah!” Lance agreed eagerly, with a lot more enthusiasm and half-joking, half-honest disappointment in his voice. “I was _this_ close to firing at you!”

They both let down their guard just a little, waiting for an answer, but there was nothing, just a polite smile. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Shiro to act a little weird and worrying, especially on a Galra cruiser like this one, but in some way, it still felt different – the eyes darker, the smile lopsided. That was why Keith took a curious step forward, brows furrowed and his free hand reaching out. He saw the shift in Shiro’s – _not_ Shiro’s, as he realized in that second – face just in time, but it was still too late to dodge the incoming swing of an arm, so instead Keith raised his blade up to defend himself. The hit never came in, and instead he heard the sound of lasers being fired close to himself – they missed, but it still saved him. Seconds after, he faced the creature that had been following them – an amorphous mass of dark jelly, and if it weren’t so frightening to be faced by something so dangerous, it probably would have been a valuable source of information. Keith stumbled back, dodging another hit coming his way, this time by a blade formed out of the creature itself, yet no less razor sharp looking than a steel one.

Instead of trying again, the creature shifted its attention to Lance all out of sudden, ignoring Keith fully. Lance did his best to dodge, but it still managed to get a clean cut in on his temple as well. Before either of them could try another attack, it backed away, and as little as Keith wanted to believe it, the thing _chuckled_. It was eerie at first, like a broken record or what you would imagine a laughing ghost to sound like, but then it turned into cheerful laughter.

Keith would’ve sworn he’d heard it before, somewhere. He dared a curious look over to Lance, who was frozen in shock, eyes blown wild, and shaking his head as if he’d actually seen a real ghost.

“Lance, snap out of it!”

But he didn’t move, didn’t even blink, just kept shaking his head, his eyebrows furrowing in what seemed to be a mixture of anger and _anguish_.

“Veronica…,” he muttered, lowering his bayard slowly. Keith recalled that name as Lance’s sister’s, if he wasn’t entirely mistaken, but he didn’t understand where that thought had come from.

Well, he _did_ understand it when turning his head, seeing that the creature had transformed into a young woman who couldn’t be anyone _but_ Lance’s sister. It laughed again, a sound that sent a shiver down Keith’s spine, but he wasn’t going to have any more of that.

This thing wanted to play?

Oh, he would play.

Without the hint of a warning, he charged, transformed his blade and swung it in the direction of the laughing creature. It dissolved and backed away further, the laughter changing in its pitch. Keith recognized it immediately, and almost couldn’t stop himself from smirking. If there was a face he’d love to cut through, it was this one.

“No hard feelings, Griffin,” he said and tried to land another hit. Unfortunately, the creature was able to change its appearance seamlessly, and it was incredibly fast in whichever it took. The second that the blade it created collided with Keith’s arm, he realized that using Griffin must have been on purpose, maybe to made him angrier, taunt him and cause him to make mistakes.

It was clever.

There was little sense in possibly getting themselves killed trying to defeat it.

“Run.”

Keith didn’t consult Lance on the idea, he didn’t ask. It was a plain, simple order, and one that allowed for absolutely no discussion. Whatever this thing was, the fact that it, for a reason they would probably never find out, not only had the _consciousness_ to transform into people they knew to catch them off guard, but also the _ability_ to do so…

It was not an exaggeration to say that it _scared_ Keith. Using Shiro, his weak point, had certainly had the desired effect. Griffin, on the other hand, had unconsciously caused him to let his guard down and get hit. It was highly intelligent, that much was certain.

“Keith. _Keith_ goddamn, are you listening?”

“What?!”

“Where the hell are we running?!”

He didn’t know. A few corridors ago, he’d lost orientation, another proof of how effective the attack had been, and they were heading straight for an intersection.

“We need to restore communication with the others.”

“Great idea! How though?!”

The thought on his mind was _extremely_ displeasing, but they didn’t have the time to come up with anything better, so he didn’t say anything and, when they reached the two corridors, shoved Lance to the left and took the right.

“We’ll find a way!” he shouted before making his way down where he suspected one of the hangars to be. They’d entered close to one of them. Now if only they could find their way back there-

“ _Keith? Lance? Are you getting this?”_

Before he got the chance to reply to the voice reaching him through the communicator in his helmet, there was another one screaming into it.

“ _Pidge?! Ahhh, I’ve never been this glad to hear your voice, I swear!”_

Keith wholeheartedly agreed on that. If Pidge could contact them, there was a decent chance she’d be able to locate their positions in the cruiser and give them instructions on how to safely get back to their lions.

“ _We were wondering why it’s taking you so long to come back,_ and why we couldn’t contact you,” she started explaining. _“Send me your data, I’ll get you out of there!”_

“On it.”

“ _You’re a lifesaver, Pidge!”_

A foreign sound coming from the nearby ventilation shaft caused Keith to come to a halt and defensively take a step back.

“Shit,” he muttered to himself, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“ _Keith, you okay there?!”_

“Managing. Pidge, can you analyze whatever is in here besides me?”

“ _Sorry, Keith,”_ she answered, audibly disappointed in that fact. _“I’m going to need a sample or scan, all I can see from here is a moving...”_

She didn’t finish the sentence, as she seemed unsure of how to describe what she was seeing – which was understandable, considering it was some sort of weird, amorphous creature that was able to transform its entire form to a completely different one.

“I’ll fight it.”

“ _Keith, no! Are you crazy, man?! It’s stupidly fast, not to mention it can_ morph!! _”_

“I’m aware, Lance! But there’s not much else we can do if it gets in the way!”

He ignored the words continuously streaming through his communicator, he ignored the collective gasps following Lance’s description of the _thing_ turning into _Shiro_ of all people, and then Veronica and Griffin. Instead, Keith focused on his enemy, and not a second too early. The ventilation shaft’s lid flew off and against the opposite wall with a loud bang, mere seconds before the fiend followed out and charged right at Keith. This time, though, he was prepared. Would it turn into Shiro again to startle him? He didn’t care, and he’d slice right through it either way. But the monster dodged around him without transforming, leaving a skin-deep cut on his suit and causing him to drop to a knee in pain. It was too fast, even for his reactions.

“Shit,” he muttered again while getting up.

“Keith?”

He froze. It was only a split second before he realized that the voice he knew so well hadn’t come through the helmet’s communicator, but was right next to him.

 _Lance_ , his heart screamed at him.

 _Not Lance_ , argued his mind. He still couldn’t help but hesitate when he turned and saw that the creature had taken the shape of Lance as well, including the goofy smile and cocked eyebrow under the helmet, but he snapped out of it quickly enough to finally land a hit, cutting off Fake-Lance’s arm and causing it to dissolve and flee the way it had coming from, allowing him to continue.

At least he’d managed to get a scan for Pidge to analyze.

“Pidge?”

“ _Yes, I’m here.”_

“ _Keith?! What the hell, man, are you alright? Did you defeat it?!”_

“I’m fine, Lance,” he pressed out, knowing that he sounded anything _but_ fine, fully aware of his heart racing like he’d just run a marathon, not to mention the throbbing wound on his side. “But it got away, so stay sharp. Pidge, I got the scans, uploading now. Hope they’re worth something.”

“ _I’ll see what I can do! Meanwhile, try to reconvene with Lance – the lions are down the way he went. I’m sending you a map.”_

“Copy that.”

The map came in only seconds later, including the best route toward Lance’s position. Keith couldn’t help but smile – not that he’d expected any less from Pidge, but he was still a little surprised, in a good way.

At least the ship was empty, except for the knocked-out guards that had stopped functioning when they’d shut down electricity. That was an upside. Downside, though, was that the emergency energy was slowly draining out as well, causing the lights to get dimmer with what seemed like every single step Keith took.

“Pidge?” he asked cautiously, still racing down the corridors in the direction of the hangar. He was too much of a spontaneous hothead to freak out yet, but he’d be lying if he claimed that he wasn’t worried. All of this had come out of nowhere, and entirely caught them off guard.

“ _Still...king on-”_

_Shit._

Communication was dying again.

“ _Hey Keith? Y’wan...ry or some...think there’s...thing here!”_

Lance’s words were cut off even worse than Pidge’s, but Keith understood them either way. The creature had made its way through the ventilation shafts to try and attack Lance. Maybe it deemed him the easier target, considering his disbelief over being faced by a look-alike of his sister.

 _At least the map still works,_ Keith thought to himself, still heading in the direction it was leading him. Not much further now. At this rate, if the monster decided to jump out of the ventilation shafts again to attack Lance, it would probably be audible over here, as well, giving Keith a warning and an incentive to run even faster, if that was humanly possible for him.

But there was nothing. Nothing other than the dull sound of his own armor colliding with the floor, and the feeling of blood rushing through his ears in a steady rhythm with his heavy breathing.

“Lance?” he tried once but got nothing. Pidge didn’t answer either, so he figured that they were on their own again.

 _There’s no reason to worry_ , he assured himself, trying to keep his mind focused on reaching his destination without fainting from exhaustion. _Lance can take care of himself. He’ll get out of this._

Finally, he reached the passage leading to the hangar, and hoped that Lance had already made his way there safely, waiting so they could get out of this place. And Lance _was_ there, weapon lifted and scanning his surroundings for their enemy. His breath was coming heavily, and right next to his feet were a few drops of blood. For just a moment, Keith’s voice failed him. Because right next to Lance, waiting to be noticed, was Keith’s spitting image. Same suit, same face, same _everything_. It even looked just as deadpan as Keith knew he usually did. He opened his mouth to say something, to warn Lance, but everything happened way to quickly. Lance turned, visibly flinched, but then hissed and fired so quickly that Keith felt himself flinch as well. No hesitation. No second-guesses. As it seemed, the creature hadn’t expected it either, because it didn’t react, and dissolved into the liquid mess they had found it as, leaving a big green puddle on the floor.

Reason told Keith that he shouldn’t feel anything about it other than relief, but he noticed something deep inside him shatter, as if someone had pulled out all his pride and dignity, and crushed it mercilessly. He swallowed hard, watched Lance go down on one knee, and bit his lip, forcing himself not to rush over; but as much as he was trying to tell himself he wouldn’t get mad, wouldn’t get angry and defensive about this, because there was no reason to, he already knew that something was changing, right here and now.

Eventually, he found himself able to move again, and hurried over to Lance, who didn’t even seem to notice him at first.

“Lance. Are you alright?”

“Brilliant...can we get...the hell out of here?”

“Gladly.”

Anything to get out of this – this place, this _situation_ – as quickly as possible.

When they finally made their way back to the lions and eventually to the castle, Lance was already back to claiming that he was the _best_ for defeating that weird monster, faking utter dismay when Keith found himself unable to even comment on that. He blamed it on being tired instead of giving in to the useless bickering, and gladly let the attention drift away from himself when Pidge gave a full-detailed description on her frustration when they’d lost contact for no reason. At least the whole stress of the situation gave him enough of a reason to go to bed early and without much of an explanation, although when he found himself lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling with the knife of Marmora in hand dangling over his head, he didn’t really expect sleep to treat him nicely tonight.

“I knew letting people in was a stupid idea from the get-go,” he told himself quietly, and greatly despised the tinge of grief washing over him. “I shouldn’t have believed that this meant...anything.”

Lance had always seen him as a rival, not only since the day they’d saved Shiro, but even before that. He’d always made that blatantly obvious, and yet, Keith had somehow managed to fool himself into believing that they’d gotten over all that, and even bonded, like friends.

He chuckled dryly at his own useless, painful feelings getting the best of him over something like that. Part of him still tried to argue that he was misinterpreting this whole ordeal, but then his mind would bring back the images of Lance’s eyebrow lifting cockily, and the way he didn’t even think before shooting something that had looked the exact same as his _friend_.

Were they even friends? Judging from all this, the answer was most likely _no, we’re not_ , and even though Keith wasn’t yet ready to accept that, he realized that it would be the easiest way to deal with all this, without allowing anyone to hurt him over how he felt. It was a terrible way of managing, but the only one he’d known before the whole Voltron-situation.

“Maybe this isn’t my place to be, after all.”

For the shortest moment, the blade in his hands seemed to lose its shine, mirroring his conflicted feelings.

_Maybe this has never been home like I’d hoped it would be._


	2. Doubt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Me: Finish this before starting literally anything else._   
>  _Me to me: Indulge in like fifteen other things and also btw its nanowrimo so have fun._   
>  _Me: *sigh*_   
>  _PS: Holy damn so many subs!! You're great and I love you. ;_;_

Most of the time, Keith didn’t mind the weird kinds of parties the inhabitants of planets they saved insisted on having – on the contrary, he usually felt like they helped him socialize with both strangers and the people he currently spent his everyday life with. He was well aware of how much it showed that he'd been alone for most of his life, so almost any opportunity to gain some social skills was very welcomed.

Today, though, was not such a day. Today, surrounded by hundreds of strangers, all he wanted was to scream loudly and lock himself away; maybe in his room in the ship, maybe the training room, or maybe in Black, only to blindly travel through the endlessness of space. It didn’t help that people, while noticing his behavior, decided that instead of leaving him alone, they would _try harder_ , include him _more_ , refuse to let him go back to the castle early, even though that was the only thing he really wanted.

But hey, it he knew a single thing about the universe, it was that life wasn't fair, and especially not merciful.

So he suffered between Hunk and Pidge, who were both trying to shoot Lance with food goo – unsuccessfully, because all goofiness aside, he _was_ their most agile member, and also their _rightfully_ self-proclaimed sharpshooter. The latter fact at least assured that Keith didn’t get hit, either, which was good, because something told him that if Lance were to pick a fight with him now, it wouldn’t end in food-faces – it would result in _casualties_.

“Can I leave now?” Keith tried not-so-subtly when the other three were taking a breather, because the last two times he’d just tried to get up and sneak away, they’d caught him and dragged him back. While he was definitely able to defend himself and do what he wanted, he wasn’t exactly in the mood to _fight_. He wanted to be left in peace, and that was easiest when they _let_ him go.

“What’s it with you, grumpy? You’re especially antisocial today, even for your standards.”

He bit his lip and ignored the words as well as he could. This was the last thing he needed right now. He’d been careful and respectful about their relationship lately – not hostile, but definitely more cautious and wary. Yet after all this time, Lance still didn’t seem to be able to avoid picking fights, even when it was blatantly obvious that it wouldn’t end well.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Keith said instead, nodded towards Hunk and Pidge each and got up to make his leave, fully ignoring them calling out for him with whiny voices. He knew he was being terrible, he knew neither of the two were at fault – hell, even Lance wasn’t really _at fault_ for anything. He wasn’t forced to be friends with everyone, and he’d been making his contempt for Keith clear since day one.

But neither of those facts made it any easier to bear. None of it filled the gaping hole that the realization of not being as much part of the family as he would’ve liked had torn in Keith’s heart. Countless times in the past, he’d told himself he wouldn’t let anyone in, so he could be safe from them rejecting him eventually. For the longest time, he had proudly found himself very capable of it, but then Voltron had happened, and with it, a new chance. After having been thrown out of the Garrison – which in itself he didn’t regret _that_ much, in hindsight – he had been given one more try to not only find signs about his past, but also a new, loving family.

He’d led his guard down. And now, he was paying for it dearly.

Halfway into the castle and on the way to his room, he re-decided. He needed to cool down, release some of the piled up anger and self-loathe inside him. If he wasn’t mistaken, his latest combat level was somewhere in the double digits, and he was eager to push it into at least the mid-twenties soon.

The second the simulation started up, he already felt some of the pressure fall from his shoulders. In here, he could be free. In here, all he had to worry about was fighting; not friends, family, or the feeling of not being good enough. When he hit level 10, he took a short break, let himself sink to the floor and stared up at the ceiling. Keeping his mind occupied with the need to survive helped, while at the same time, it didn’t help at all. Sure, it didn’t give him much _time_ to think about his emotions, but whenever the battle was over, it rained down on him even worse than before, like acid rain digging deep into his skin.

“Where did I go wrong?” he asked himself, his blade raised up above his head, glowing calmly. Of course he didn’t expect an answer, didn’t even know if there _was_ one, but a small part of him still wished that someone, _anyone_ would come to his side and help him through this misery that he couldn’t understand.

When had he started trusting everyone else as much as he did? When had they turned from strangers to friends to family, and how had he not stopped this development before it could cloud his better judgment? Eventually, he’d known he’d end up alone, because he always did. His mother had left, his father had died, and even Shiro had been torn from him – not once, but twice by now. It was as if Keith couldn’t possibly keep anything that didn’t involve pain and suffering.

He blinked, and shot up when he felt himself tear up. _No_. He would absolutely _not_ allow himself the weakness of crying, of admitting how much it hurt, how much he wanted to turn back time in order to change the present. There was absolutely no time to get sentimental and dream of futures that didn’t exist, and he’d learned the hard way that crying wouldn’t change anything about that.

“I need to stay strong, until this is over,” he told himself, got up and decided to leave the training room. Maybe the combination of an icy cold shower and sleep would help in some kind of way, and if not, he could watch and read some of the old reports on the universe that Coran had supplied them with – they were highly useful and informative, although extremely difficult to understand. Still, as someone who’d always been a cast-out, different from normal people, Keith was especially interested in other _foreign_ things.

Maybe, just maybe, his relation to being _alien_ got the best of him sometimes. Maybe it did right now.

He ignored all of it. He ignored how hard he had to bite his lip on the way from the shower back to his room in order not to cry. He ignored the painful memories of watching others from the sidelines, not knowing if he was part of the group or not, and if he even wanted to be. He ignored the even worse realization that by letting himself get pulled in, he had given them the opportunity and a surefire way to hurt him.

 _Patience yields focus_ , Shiro had told him so many times in the past, and Keith was certain that with enough time, he would be able to find another reason to go on – a better, more stable one than a family that was just as much scary as it was comforting. He knew it wasn’t fair to distance himself from _everyone_ simply because he was now aware that _Lance’s_ animosity towards him wasn’t a thing of the past. Yet for all Keith knew, it could be but a start in a series of events.

What if Allura still despised him for the blood running through his veins? Deep inside, who knew if she was only forcing herself to accept him for as long as needed?

What if Shiro was secretly disappointed in him for dropping out of the Garrison, after fighting so long to give him chance after chance to stay? He hadn’t ever said a word about it, which Keith had appreciated up until now, but currently, it made him nothing but anxious.

Lance, at this point, was pretty much a closed case in Keith’s book. He’d seen himself get taken out by the sharpshooter without any sort of hesitation, and even just thinking about it for confirmation hurt as much as watching it had.

He wasn’t half as worried about Pidge, Hunk or even Coran, in all fairness. His respect and even friendship towards them seemed to be mutual. The problem was, would it hold up in case of doubt, when the choice was between him or one of the others?

Shaking his head, he hissed. Of course it wouldn’t.

A small, tiny voice in the back of his mind told him that the easiest way to settle all of this was talking. Back when they had only started to work together, they had been talking and mind-syncing with each other a lot, in order to be comfortable as a group and prove that they were worthy to form Voltron.

At some point, their teamwork had turned into something they’d taken for granted – a necessity, as without the power of Voltron, they could’ve died countless times. Even as the least social one of the group, Keith could admit that these team-building exercises had helped all of them, and that perhaps, insisting on making them part of their daily routine again would help improve their situation.

Running a hand over his face slowly, he chuckled, with absolutely no amusement to it. Talking was the one thing he considered himself worst at, unless strictly necessary, and, if possible, initiated by someone other than himself. That was one of the many reasons he didn’t feel like he could take Shiro’s spot as the black lion’s paladin.

Keith wasn’t good with people, and he was well aware that people had a hard time being good with him, too. Dealing with his often reckless decisions wasn’t easy, as proven whenever he’d risked tearing the team apart as long as it meant even the smallest chance at pursuing their enemy instead of retreating. He was pushing, willing to throw his own life away if in any way necessary. Most of the time, he saw that as a strength rather than a weakness, but lately, he wasn’t so sure.

Was the mission really worth being put above everything?

Groaning, he curled himself up in bed, put his blade back under the pillow where it made him feel safe, and forced his eyes shut, knowing he wouldn’t fall asleep before the others came back from their party.

Maybe the thought of not belonging there, of doing them best by staying as far from them as possible, caused him to shed one or the other tear after all.

\---

No one mentioned his early retreat the next morning, although he felt multiple pairs of questioning eyes lying on himself. He wasn’t forcefully included in any kind of mindless conversation, though, for which he was thankful.

“We received another stress signal from a planet not too far from here, but weren’t able to contact anyone. If you’re all well rested, we should give it a look!”

He managed to crack a smile at how considerate Coran was about these things, but then realized everyone was staring at him for some sort of confirmation. Being the leader included the weirdest decisions, Keith found. How was he supposed to know if they were feeling up for a fight?

“I’m good to go,” he started carefully. “If no one has any objections or concerns, we should depart immediately.”

Everyone nodded in unison, and with that, it was settled. Anything other than their mission to save the universe had to wait. He wasn’t sure if anyone but him felt the unpleasant pressure between the team, but if they did, no one mentioned it.

For the time being, Keith was more than glad they didn’t.


	3. Uncertainty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I...wasn't born to write action scenes, that much is for sure. :'D  
> (I promise there will be comfort to the angst at SOME point. lmao)

The stress signal turned out to be old news when they finally reached their destination. After passing by a rocky constellation, they found hundreds of Galra ships cornering a small planet which itself was covered in a particle barrier, beneath which the inhabitants could already be seen panicking, running around to bring up their defenses as much as they still had the chance to.

“We’re late,” Keith stated through the communicator, although he knew that everyone else was already aware of that, too. For a moment, he wasn’t sure which course of action would be the best, but he allowed himself a moment to breathe and think. With the power of Voltron, they could decimate the masses of ships quickly, but it would leave too many parts of the planet entirely unguarded, and there was no telling how long the barrier would withstand.

“Pidge, how many cruisers are there in total?”

“My sensors are picking up three. They’re forming a perfect triangle around the small planet to attack from all sides. The third one is on the other side of it, so it’ll be hard to get to.”

Keith nodded to himself. Why would anything ever be easy, after all?

“Alright. I’ll take care of the one to our left. Pidge, Hunk, Allura, I need you to focus on the one on the right. There’s a lot of smaller ships there, so be careful.”

He didn’t like what he was going to do, but Keith knew exactly that there was only one lion that could pass by the countless ships attacking them, and make it to the other side safely. Even so, he hesitated.

“Lance. Red is the only one who can make it through this hell-maze.”

“Already on it!”

They split up, and just in time for the attacks to concentrate on them – they were definitely less vulnerable in the lion forms, although the amount of enemies still made it hard not to constantly get hit. With Black’s sheer power, taking out the ion cannon was an easy task – avoiding the millions of small lasers coming his way in fact _wasn’t_ , Keith learned quickly.

“ _We’ve taken out the cruiser,”_ he heard Allura’s strained voice. _“How’s your status? Keith? Lance?”_

“I took out the cannon, but there’s too many attackers for me to effectively harm the ship. I can handle this, but I need some time!”

A ship crashed into Black’s side before he could insist on Lance reporting in on his status as well, and the lack of an answer left an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Pidge’s calculations were never wrong, but what if this time was different? It didn’t help that instead of thinning out, the enemies seemed to _grow_ in numbers no matter how many of them were defeated.

“ _Guys, not to cause panic or anything, but the_ barrier is breaking _!”_ Hunk screamed hysterically, and Keith didn’t check if it was true – he knew it was. That meant they had to act quickly. He knew that even more than defeating the empire’s forces, they needed to keep these people safe, no matter what.

“We need to evacuate. Hunk, Allura, I’m trusting you with this!”

“ _On it!”_

“ _Alright!”_

“Pidge, help me keep these fleets busy!”

“ _You can count on me!”_

Then he realized that they still hadn’t heard a single word from Lance. He’d disappeared to the other side of the planet what felt like hours ago. It could just be the communication refusing to work, but Keith wasn’t going to take that for granted.

“Lance?”

Nothing. He knew he couldn’t allow himself to panic over this, but that was easier said than done. What if the one cruiser on the other side had been a trap? What if there were undetectable ships waiting for someone to be lured in, only to take them out quickly and effortlessly?

But even if so, they didn’t have any other choice but to fight. If they were to close in on the planet and round it to find Lance, they would cause the fleets to do the same and endanger everyone on the surface. And flying straight through the masses of ships was nothing but suicide in any lion slower than Red.

“Pidge, any sign on Lance or Red? It’s unusual for him not to report in.”

“ _Can’t say! I’m still picking up their signals, but they’re seemingly immobile!”_

At least that was better than no signal at all, he figured, and charged in to try and land another decent hit on the cruiser. With Pidge covering him, it was a lot easier than on his own, but he still felt Black suffering severely from the countless hits they had no choice but to take.

“ _We’ve evacuated everyone here, but there seems to be a second line of defenses on the other side of the planet!”_

Keith’s unpleasant theory solidified.

“Can you make it over there? We’ll join you as soon as this cruiser goes down!”

“ _Be careful!”_

Eventually, the amount of attackers thinned out, leaving the cruiser unguarded enough for Black to make a clean cut through it and disable its functions entirely. There were still countless ships attacking mercilessly, but they didn’t have time for that.

“Let’s rejoin with the others, Pidge.”

“ _Okay!”_

Now that this side of the planet, even though beyond salvation, was at least evacuated, they could use the terrain to their advance. With Black, Keith noticed, it was a lot harder to fly risky maneuvers than with Red, causing him to knock into trees and lose his balance quite often, but he managed to get rid of a good amount of pursuers in a forest.

He definitely wasn’t prepared for what was waiting on the other side. Pidge had been right about the single cruiser, but the amounts of ships guarding and defending it was almost breathtaking.

“How’s your status?” Keith demanded while closing in on the rest of the group to help with the defense. To his dismay, there wasn’t an answer – to his relief, he could spot Red evading multiple lasers, seemingly fully back in motion. Still, Pidge had mentioned Red being immobile for a while, and Keith didn’t like that at all.

He tried to focus on the cruiser, but it was near impossible to get close to, and the last bits of the barrier were finally breaking down, leaving Yellow and Blue – including their pilots and the inhabitants still trying to board the lions – fully unguarded. So while a risky move, Keith decided against the offensive and fell back to cover his teammates; he’d abandoned the team mid-fight once, and he wouldn’t do it ever again.

“If anyone can hear me – fall back, protect the survivors, then retreat!”

“ _-ger”_

“ _Al-”_

“ _Got-”_

They were all hacked off replies, but at least they’d heard him. Was it the load of ships and lasers getting in the way of their communication? From all Keith could recall, this had never happened to them in a scenario like this; when they were further apart, sure, but he could see every other lion from his position. Something here was terribly, terribly wrong. Like this, they had no choice but to leave the planet itself in the empire’s mercy. Sure, it didn’t matter that much, considering it was going to be abandoned, but the fact that they couldn’t even keep up with a few cruisers and keep a planet safe was unsettling, to say the least.

Keith only realized he’d been lost in thoughts for a little too long when his field of vision was already entirely covered in the gray mass of a ship flying straight into him.

The impact sent Black flying backwards head-first, turning the world upside down and causing Keith to press his eyes shut for a second to regain his composure. He hadn’t been paying attention, had let his confused mind take over and lost focus for a second.

“Damn this,” he cursed their messed-up situation, the empire, maybe Black for forcing him to be the leader when he still couldn’t see himself as one. What was he even good for, if he couldn’t ensure their missions to work out? What if this situation was but a proof of him not being worthy of the leadership? If Shiro were here instead of him—

He took a deep breath, and shook his head.

 _Patience_ , he reminded himself yet again, finding that it helped him each and every time he did, _yields focus._

It didn’t lessen his fear, and it didn’t simplify the situation — but it allowed him to calm down just enough to not freak out or lose his mind, at least not now. As much as he hated it, this was something they would have to discuss after making it out of here.

“ _Evacu— leave?”_

He could only beg that this was meant that they were good to go, and that all of them would get his answer.

“Return to the castle. I repeat, return to the castle, everyone. We can’t form Voltron like this, let alone fight.”

He knew he sounded like a broken record, but he still said it a third time, fingers angrily grabbing into the handles, begging that at least once out of those three times, it managed to reach everyone.

“Return to the castle!”

Another small ship hit his side, and he couldn’t help but charge back at it angrily to take it out. Luckily, his short temper wasn’t news to anyone, but he reminded himself not to act on it too much, and instead retreated. After making it decently far away from the planet, he dared to turn around and check. The sigh he let out afterwards was both drained of energy and incredibly relieved; everyone was following, and their pursuers were sparse enough that they could quickly take them out without much coordination needed, before heading towards the castle.

They had barely all made it to the bridge before Allura already worm-holed them far, _far_ away from the pitiful scenery.

Pidge filed the communication error as a disturbing signal from the vast amount of enemy forces they’d been facing, and they never really got a chance to confirm that, before it was already too late.

———

 _You always remember what is most important when there's no time left to act_ , Keith realized when they were, yet again, overrun by warships trying to put an end to Voltron and claim the lions for themselves and the Galran empire . Even though they had been training without any trouble in the last weeks, nothing out of the ordinary had happened – until now. Now, in the midst of a fight against a fleet of ships, their communication was yet again dying on them for no apparent reason _._

"Pidge? What's going on?"

Keith felt himself get anxious and worried already, even though they had hardly even started fighting yet. He couldn't even tell if his mind was playing tricks on him, or if Black was _actually_ getting harder to control by the minute. It wasn't a secret that the lions had minds of their own, but they had never consciously let them down in the midst of battle, let alone without a good reason. None of it made sense, especially after how flawlessly they had been performing lately.

 _Lies_ , Keith caught himself thinking, and his shaking fingers clawed into Black's handles while he tried to get a hold of himself. Yes, they all had a decent connection to their respective lions – even Allura had been adjusting to Blue quite well in a short time; but their team-building exercises? Keith had to stop himself hard from laughing dryly. He'd never been too good at them, so it wasn't much of a surprise that he hadn't been one to initiate them as the leader, unlike Shiro, who had continuously insisted on them spending time together, training together, working together.

Angry with himself, Keith groaned. This wasn't the time to pity himself over obviously being inferior to someone almost all of them had looked up to as kids; they'd established that it was his duty to lead Voltron, chosen by the black lion, if he liked it or not. Backing out of that was just cowardly at this point.

_"Keith? Are you there?"_

At last, a signal, after all.

"Yes. Any clues on why this is happening again?"

_"Nothing. No abnormalities in my calculations, no disturbing sig-"_

Of course.

_"Not to say we should totally abandon-"_

Hunk's voice broke for a second, long enough for Keith to grind his teeth, not long enough to get worried yet.

_"-out of here!"_

"Stay close to each other," Keith commanded, because that at least seemed to help their connection. And even if it didn’t, they could at least wordlessly have each other’s backs. He didn't like the idea of switching to the less maneuverable Voltron against so many enemies, but if that could ensure them being able to communicate, it was worth a try.

"I know this might sound crazy, but we need to form Voltron, if we don't want this to end in us having to retreat again."

To his mild surprise, everyone agreed quickly. He knew they chose to trust him even in situations where they disagreed, but making important decisions for the team was still a little scary every single time he did it. Their dedication and trust, however, didn't change anything about the fact that when they flew their regular formation, nothing happened. Keith wasn't sure which part of him hadn't been expecting this, because now that it happened, he wasn't even mildly surprised. _Of course_ trouble in their teamwork would lead to them being unable to form Voltron.

Awareness was taking him over. Sweaty hands, nervous harrumphs, eyes scanning the area rapidly. They needed to do something. _They_ needed _him_ to come up with a plan, before they were entirely overrun.

_"Keith?! What's going on?"_

_"What are we supposed to do?!"_

_I don't know_ , he wanted to answer through gritted tears, angry with himself and the world and all of them as a team, but he couldn't bring himself to press out even a single syllable without the risk of exploding on the spot.

_"Shouldn't we get out of here? No way are we going to defeat these masses without Voltron!"_

It was the first time during the mission that Lance had spoken up, which was already rare and surprising itself. Even worse, it was the last thing Keith wanted to hear, and simultaneously the only thing they could possibly do. They wouldn't save a single soul in the entirety of the universe if they were defeated because their strongest weapon wasn't responding to their calls.

Still, that fact didn't make him any less unhappy. The planet they were trying to save this time had evacuated before their arrival anyway, which was the only reason Keith couldn’t insist on risking to take the enemies on without Voltron, but now the inhabitants would be left without a place to go home to. He bit his lower lip, scowled and considered disagreeing with Lance, cursing himself inwardly for knowing it would be on principle more than rationality, and eventually complied.

"Retreat."

He said it once, waited for everyone to give some sort of confirmation, and watched them turn back to the castle first, so he could keep an eye on them. This was his fault. He wasn't able to lead them so that they could form Voltron. They didn't trust him the way they needed to-

_No._

He bit his lower lip and ignored the incoming messages from Pidge and Hunk, asking him if he was okay. There was dedication in their voices. Determination. Trust.

 _It's not them_ , Keith realized, only keeping himself from willingly crashing into one of the enormous rocks they passed by because he knew that Black didn't deserve to suffer the concequences of his pilot's uselessness.

_It's me who doesn't trust them enough._

When they all returned to the bridge and yet again had to flee from their pursuers, all eyes were lying on him, expectantly. None of them seemed to judge him, or so he hoped at least, but there was a lingering uneasiness between them, like an unspoken consensus that whatever was going on had to do with him. He couldn't blame them for it, either, because he thought so, too. The weight of being in charge, of having to come up with some sort of plan, was numbing. He didn't have an answer, he didn't have an explanation for why nothing worked whenever they needed it to, for why his palms were sweaty and his fingers trembling and his mind shouting self-loathe at him with each of their stares piercing his conflicted mind like hot needles.

"I don't know what to say," he admitted silently, and it sounded so small and insignificant that he wanted to punch himself for letting his shell crack, for letting anyone see how much this was affecting him, when he knew they were all relying on him keeping a cool head in situations like this one.

"Did...did I miss something?" Lance, of all people, asked and raised an eyebrow curiously. Keith hated how angry it made him. "I mean, this is a whole new and weird situation, but I don't think anyone blames you, man. Why would we?"

There was uncertainty in his voice, maybe even disdain, and he visibly avoided meeting Keith's eyes, as if he weren’t so sure of the words himself. That was unsurprising, though. After all, Keith was fully aware that he was a nuisance to Lance – his rival, his enemy, a leader that should have never been one. He found himself thinking back to the sight of the shapeshifter approaching Lance, only to be shot down in a split second. It hurt. It still hurt _so much_.

"I don't know," he repeated, unable to keep looking at them, unable to try and assure himself that they weren’t glaring at him, unable to face the looks they were possibly wearing. Lance's sugarcoating helped nothing. Hunk agreeing with him barely even reached Keith's ears. His nails were dinging into his palm, mouth shut tightly. He felt someone inch closer, heard words directed at him but couldn't make them out. A hand was trying to reach out to him for comfort, and just the thought of letting it made him feel sick, so naturally, he shook his head and backed away.

As much as he knew that the last thing he should do was isolating himself from the rest of the team, the familiar feeling of suffocating engulfed him. This was getting to him. His body language was blatantly proving how much he was affected by their troubles, and it felt like a tight leash around his neck, slowly pulling him up in front of a hungry audience, offering him, his insecurities, his fears, to be devoured by the people staring at him with what the logical side of him wanted to see as worry, but the endless doubt and insecurity in him marked down as _judgment_.  
"I need...some time to think," he forced himself to press out before turning away and hasting out of the room. More than one voice called out for him, but he decided to ignore them all and do what he always did when everything was drowning him in a deep pool of uncertainty – he went to the training deck, ignoring the fact that he was already exhausted from their poorly executed fight earlier, tired from their failure as a team, worn out by his own inability to keep it together and push forward instead of running away.

He thought back to the times at the Garrison, to when he'd been given chances to start again, only to bust them for reasons that his past self might have found valid, oblivious to the cruelty of reality moving on with or without him, if he wanted it to or not. All things considered, he didn't want any of this. He didn't want to be forced to make decisions he found himself incapable of, he didn't want to find himself met with the disappointment of the only real friends he'd ever had, in case that his choices would turn out to be wrong.

With a loud groan, Keith pressed his eyes shut and leaned his forehead against the wall next to the door to the training deck. There was no one around to make fun of him for it, and the rational side of him doubted that anyone would, but he still felt a slight flush of embarrassment creep up to his cheeks, making him feel uncomfortably warm all over.

Maybe it was because Keith was used to doing things right. To sitting in a flight simulator and beating all of his classmates effortlessly. To advancing in the castle's close-combat training levels at a pace that he knew left the others impressed and, more importantly, expectant of him. To making life changing decisions and seeing that he'd picked the right choices. Because it was so easy to make these for himself, when the only people possibly affected would be the superiors he didn't care about, the other rookies he didn't care about, or his mortal enemies he especially didn't care about. Whatever the reason – and Keith hated admitting this, be it to himself or to others – he absolutely, wholeheartedly loathed the possibility of letting down the people he _did_ care for; his found family, friends that treated him with respect, like an equal, like he _mattered_.

It was numbing. It was holding him back from doing what he would have done if only his own life were on the line. It clouded his better judgment of what he should or shouldn't do. He wished he could deny it, but there was no doubt about it; he cared. He cared so much, and he hated it, and he hated himself for it, and if he could, he would just turn back and undo it, which in itself was even dumber, even more ridiculous and childish. And on top of all that – possibly the worst part about it all – as much as he tried not to, he knew that secretly, he wished, hoped and begged that they cared, too.

Maybe not as much. Maybe not in the same confining, restricting way. Maybe not so much that it would keep them from doing the right thing, too.  
But enough for them to worry about his disappearance. Enough for them to know him and his isolation-manners. Enough for them, at least one, to approach him about the matter. Enough for them to see through his icy cold walls that coated and contained the seemingly indomitable fire in his heart.

It was naive, wishful thinking, and most of the time in the past Keith could remember, he had been disappointed when it came to that. He'd been let down, he'd let others down, he'd learned to live on his own and accept that life was neither easy nor fair, and that sometimes, more often then not, bad things didn't have a happy ending.  
Just this once, fiercely ignoring the fact that he was crying ugly tears, hiding muffled sobs with one hand tightly draped over his trembling lips, he allowed himself to hope they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you. :)


	4. Reassurance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Henlo, I swear to GOD the next chapter will focus on the comfort. D; There's a slice of it in here as well, but really, the next chapter will have much more!!! :3c

The more time Keith spent on the training deck, the more he realized that his anxiety and insecurity towards the team could be narrowed down to a quite toxic mixture of questionable paranoia and excessive amounts of precaution. That realization itself was good, because it helped him calm down and breathe more steadily, which then led to his brain finally being properly fueled with oxygen again, allowing him to think. He wasn't quite sure how much time he had spent lying on the floor staring at the high ceiling, and he doubted it mattered much. In case of emergency, he knew that the others would call for him, and they knew that he would come running, no matter his personal issues and reclusion. That, at least, was something he allowed himself to be proud of – his ability to shut his mind up when needed; sure, it came with the downside of acting before thinking at times, but he knew that more often than not, him trusting his instincts was justified. He couldn't even remember an instance where he'd put that characteristic to bad use.

But as long as he wasn’t being called for, he allowed himself to keep lying there idly, quietly hoping that something, _anything_ would happen, although he knew how childish that was. He’d torn himself away from the group and excused himself saying he needed to _think_ , so how could he explain them to come after him? Lately, he had trouble making up his mind, and it was incredibly frustrating.

He listened to his own fingers drum on the cold floor, blinked away the last embarrassing bits of tears that he would deny he’d shed, took a deep, calming breath, and finally sat up in order to leave. Even though he wasn’t yet ready to face his team, his exhaustion was getting significantly hard to ignore, and if there was a thing he didn’t need, it was being found on the training deck floor, sweaty and miserable and weak.

Instead, he figured it was better to take care of himself and get some rest. It would barely postpone the inevitable, but that would have to be enough for now. Willing his racing heart to calm down, he pushed himself to his feet, closed his eyes shortly for another deep breath, and finally left to head to the showers. He hoped that hot water would wash his tormenting thoughts away.

It didn’t.

Neither did the fact that he found the kitchen occupied when he finally gave in to his need to eat.

 _At least it’s only Hunk,_ he thought quickly, right before realizing that thinking that wasn’t exactly nice. But the warm smile that he was given, the open kindness and careful distance; Keith appreciated all that immensely. It let him return the friendly gesture thinly without feeling awkward, allowed him to walk over to get some water and peek at whatever new foreign ingredients Hunk was trying to turn into something edible for all of them.

“Hey. Feeling better?”

There was neither judgment nor anger in the question – only careful curiosity. Maybe that was what made it so easy to reply honestly.

“Not at all. I’m sorry all of this happened.”

Keith flinched when a large hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, but didn’t try to pull away. He knew that he had to face the truth and work out a plan so that they could finally use their strongest and, hands down, _only,_ weapon again. If he was blessed enough to start of facing Hunk, who wouldn’t make fun of him or be disappointed or even expectant, then Keith knew he had to value that.

“Like Lance said, no one blames you. Why would you even think that?”

Why exactly?

He was supposed to be the leader of Voltron. Someone both mentally and physically strong enough to guide them through their battles, someone able to keep them in line and make sure that whenever there was a part of them that didn’t work out, they’d find a way to change that. He was in charge of _preventing_ these hopeless situations, or at least come up with a solution to them.

Instead, though, his mind was void of reason or even the slightest idea on what to do, clouded by the fear of having let his friends down, both by failing to see this coming and by running away afterwards.

“I’m trying to understand what you’re seeing in me. Shiro called me a natural leader, and we all saw where that got us.”

Hunk’s expression was pitiful, at best, a sign that he didn’t really know what to say to that.

 _Because it’s true_ , Keith heard the petty voice inside his head tease. _He’s just too kind to spill it to your face._

But before either of them could add anything, the door opened audible and Keith turned around with decent amounts of anxiety trying to get the best of him. He wasn’t ready to confront _one_ of his friends, let alone two.

Pidge and Lance didn’t even seem to notice them, which spoke volumes about how deep their were lost in their conversation. It seemed like friendly bickering, they both gestured around lively and only came to an abrupt halt when they realized they weren’t alone. Awkward silence engulfed the room for a way too long moment, and Keith felt his eyebrows furrow at the unnerving expectation of anyone saying anything.

Keith didn’t miss the pitiful expression that ghosted Pidge’s face shortly, almost like a mirror to Hunks. Keith _certainly_ didn’t miss the smile on Lance’s face falling, how he pursed his lips and seemingly considered if it was worth picking a fight over what was on his mind or if he should let it slip for the sake of peace.

“Spill it,” Keith heard himself say without even intending to, and contemplated taking it back, but the answer came too quickly.

“Spill what, _leader?”_ Was it his imagination, or was there an especially fiery anger in the title? “You should make up your mind on if you want to fight or run away, if you-”

“Lance!”

Hunk’s voice immediately shut him up, and his eyes widened in shock. Apparently, he hadn’t really given himself the time to think before speaking, either. A small, cautious part of Keith mourned it, pitied himself for how blind he had been to the hostility, simply because he’d _wanted_ to believe that they’d become friends. But at the same time, it was liberating — it gave him the freedom to let his own feelings boil over, too. Being pitied or even encourages was stressful — being antagonized gave him a justification to fight back, and just now did he realize how many things there were on his mind that he wanted, _needed_ to say.

“Let him say it — that’s what he’s been waiting for after all, right?” he teased, willing his voice to sound angry rather than hurt. “If I prove to be an unfitting pilot for the black lion, I’m sure Lance won’t miss an opportunity to try again.”

“What? No, I don’t even—“

“Come on, that’s what it’s always been about, isn’t it? Go ahead, make yourself feel better. It doesn’t change anything about the situation, but neither does— what was it? Me _running away_.”

Keith immediately felt a little lighter after letting all that out, and at the same time realized that he’d crossed borders between them. He’d sworn to keep it to himself, the disappointment over seeing himself get shot down with ease, the insecurity of not fitting in and not being the leader they needed. But then, things like this happened, and he found himself unable to return to the same isolation he’d lived in for years. He _wanted_ to understand, and part of him _wanted_ to settle whatever things were wrong between them, whatever Lance despised about him so much. Keith just didn’t know _how_.

He expected a snarky reply. To be made fun of for how unfit he was for his position, for how he’d put the name _leader_ to shame. Part of him still knew how to effortlessly react to that, fall back from harmless banter into full-front fighting, and another was fretting it, unwillingly taking a step back as if that gave him more air to breathe. It didn’t help at all.

Neither did the reply he eventually got.

“Sorry.”

There was severity in the single word, in how quietly it was said, in how Lance looked away and shook his head, as if he himself didn’t even understand why he’d let it slip. Dead silence followed, a clear indicator that everyone was just as caught off guard as Keith was, and he figured that he should be the one to say _something_ , maybe to apologize as well, but all he could wrap his mind around was the suffocating feeling of it being a lie, a thick veil covering up the unspoken truth.

“Are you really?” he couldn’t help but ask, and he got a feeling that it didn’t take a genius to decipher that he wasn’t talking about their current fight. Now that they were talking — however awkwardly, considering they had quite the audience watching — Keith realized how long they _hadn’t_ been speaking to each other at all, unless entirely necessary. He’d avoided everyone for the past weeks, sure, but he’d found himself _especially_ adamant about not spending too much casual time around Lance if he didn’t have to.

Right now, Keith wasn’t sure which was worse. Being estranged while knowing that somewhere inside, he longed to understand what had happened between them, longed to go back to being friends, longed to be assured that he was not going to be left alone again after all? Or being reminded that he had hoped for things he’d long but known he couldn’t have? Because it hurt. It hurt to know that they weren’t able to communicate in words unless they were fighting, and it hurt even more to realize that he was a large bit of the reason for that, simply because he couldn’t get out of his head and just say how he felt.

“Do you need it hand-written or something? Should’ve expected it doesn’t matter to you. Who am I to you but _the worst pilot ever_ , right? Sorry to take your time.”

Lance was quite obviously offended by the turn-down of his apology. It hadn’t been a groundbreaking one, but an apology nonetheless, and Keith couldn’t deny that he’d shut it down unfairly. Subsequently, he couldn’t bring himself to try and stop Lance, because what right did he have to?

“Lance!”

It was Hunk who called out, but his voice fell on deaf ears, and seconds later, the door snapped shut, leaving the three of them standing in a terribly exhausting silence. Eventually, Pidge was the one to break it, in her typical down-to-earth, almost rude way.

“I don’t know which one shocks me more. The fact that Lance passed up an opportunity to fight with Keith and tried to _apologize_ despite his huge ego, or Keith being the one to keep it going.”

_Ouch._

“Me neither,” Hunk agreed, with a lot less subliminal disappointment in his voice.

“I’m still here,” Keith deadpanned as if they didn’t know, but nonetheless couldn’t deny that they were right. His feelings had gotten the better of him, and it wasn’t anything he was proud of. Now it would be even harder to communicate as a team — not that he’d had a real plan on how to initiate that, anyway.

“No offense, Keith,” Pidge said calmly, but he could almost hear her brain working around all the things she wanted to say to him. “But you’ve been acting weird for weeks now. It was subtle, at first, but are you sure that nothing’s up?”

He almost laughed at that, but kept it together. What was he supposed to say? ‘ _I saw our teammate shoot down my spitting image without remorse, and I had kind of forgotten he hates me, prior to that. The realization reminded me how used I am to being alone and that I’ve let my guard down in hopes of finding a place to call home after all these years. Nothing major.’_? Yeah, no. Not going to happen.

“All this responsibility is a bit overwhelming,” is what he went with eventually, fully aware that it didn’t really sound like the entire truth. “I’m tired and don’t understand why these misfortunes keep happening, but I’m fine.”

“And a terrible liar, too,” Pidge replied with a small pout, seemingly offended that he tried to lie to her so cheaply. He couldn’t really blame her, for how blatantly obvious it was that he _wasn’t_ fine.

“Then what do you want to hear?” he offered, hoping that she didn’t want to hear _anything_ about any of this. He knew they had to sort things out as a team, he knew he wouldn’t get around confronting Lance beforehand, and he knew they’d slacked on their team-building activities. But acknowledging that now wouldn’t change the past, and it wouldn’t make him any less miserable in this exact moment.

“This isn’t an interrogation, Keith. But if there’s something you want to talk about, you know we’re all willing to listen, right?”

He did, in fact, so he nodded accordingly. However, the awareness that he _could_ spill his mind changed nothing about the fact that it would make him feel weak and vulnerable, and that he wasn’t even _entirely_ sure what he felt in the first place.

“I’m not sure if I want to, but I appreciate the offer.”

Now if only he knew how to act normally, show that he might need a little help in figuring out what was going on without feeling like a nuisance.

“Hey, how about we sit and calm down for a while? It’s been a long day, after all,” Hunk suggested with an incredibly huge smile, and Keith couldn’t help but get infected with it; looking over to Pidge, he realized she smiled, too.

At least, he thought to himself, the castle was comfortable in most spots. They didn’t have to sit on each other’s lap, but they could still be close and have a calm, quiet conversation. Half-way in, Keith had almost forgotten what it was about, and for a change, he allowed himself to appreciate that.

“I’ve been wondering if I could make some sort of drone to help us in situations like this,” Pidge suddenly blurted out and pouted right after, as if she hadn’t wanted to actually spill that.

“How so?” Keith asked in a low voice. He didn’t want to push her into sharing details if she didn’t want to, but couldn’t deny that he was curious. They were relying way too much on the power of one singular weapon — Voltron — for his liking anyway, and whenever they had trouble like in the last weeks, they paid for it dearly.

“I haven’t finalized it yet, but the idea is a machine that can pick up our signals as long as it stays in or close enough to the respective lion, and send it to the next machine.”

“Like a telephone?”

She cringed at the way he simplified it, but nodded eventually.

“I suppose…it wouldn’t really help us fight back, but at least we wouldn’t be left without functioning communication just because we’re having trouble with the lions.”

“You seem troubled about it, still.”

She nodded again and shifted around in her seat restlessly.

“After what happened with Rover, I guess I’m a little sentimental about these things.”

Keith understood that. Sometimes, machines were the best allies, and Rover had indeed seemed like a true friend for Pidge — everyone, actually.

“That’s entirely understandable. I do like your idea, though, just so you know. It could help not to constantly rely on sentient robots cooperating with our plans.”

They dropped the topic and returned to more idle chatter. Somewhere in the midst of it, Hunk reminded them that he’d tried preparing the fruit they’d fount on a planet just a few days ago, and insisted on his friends tasting them. Keith didn’t consider himself a picky eater, but he did have a decent fear for his life whenever he was asked to eat something that could potentially be toxic.

At the end of the day, though, he was still alive, and found himself being way more relaxed than just hours ago. They hadn’t really addressed any of the things on his mind, and he hadn’t felt the need to do so, but even so, the prospect of facing these problems suddenly seemed way less intimidating.

Maybe he’d just needed a reminder that even though they were _forced_ to work together, they had still become allies, _friends_ even. The thought was soothing, and, for the first time in a long while, allowed him to sleep peacefully.

* * *

 

 _Tense_ was too casual a word to describe the mood in the group the next morning. With newfound bravery, Keith had insisted on all of them coming together to discuss their next steps and ideas on how they could fix their problems with Voltron. It wasn’t like they didn’t _want_ to come up with a solution, but they seemingly weren’t able to even figure out where to start _searching_ for one.

“Maybe we should go back to some of our earliest exercises,” Allura suggested eventually, to both Keith’s relief and dismay. He knew _exactly_ which exercise she was talking about, and he remembered the feeling of letting the others in on his thoughts and emotions for the first time — there hadn’t been much there back then that could have concerned them, so it had been easy. He hadn’t cared if they dug in his memories about the Garrison, or even about his father. He didn’t necessarily talk much about either of these things, but they weren’t a secret either.

Now, however, the tables had turned.

After all the things they’d been through, he knew that many of his recent, more delicate feelings were related to the rest of the team; to them as friends, as _family_. But even more than that, he knew that he wouldn’t be able to hide his memory of the mission with the shape-shifter, and they would find out that it was still bothering him day and night, even though they had never encountered a similar creature after that.

They would question why it occupied his mind, they would want to know any details that neither he nor Lance had shared with them — Keith was sure they had _both_ wanted nothing but to forget about that, about how frightening it was to see a creature transform into someone they knew. But now, it would be exposed, and for a moment, Keith wondered if he should rather spill it out than risk anyone seeing it.

“You remember, don’t you, paladins? Open up your minds and let the others feel what you feel. It’s one of the most important things for us to be able to form Voltron.”

They all gave short notes of affirmation and sat in a circle on the floor. The motion itself was almost a bit nostalgic, Keith had to admit, but that didn’t lighten his worry about the ordeal in the slightest. He closed his eyes and took in the images traveling between their minds. Pictures of Hunk’s family, Allura’s father, Pidge’s dog, simulations at the Garrison, a flower field, Keith’s former home-

It wasn’t working. He knew he was blocking them from other memories, more delicate ones; he felt the tension rising between them, felt that they _knew_ that they weren’t all syncing.

“You have to open up your mind,” someone said, but he was unable to even decipher who. Keith’s entire mind was wrapped around giving away everything but this one painful, embarrassing memory. Anything else? Fine. But he couldn’t let this slip.

“This isn’t working!” _Pidge._

“We did it a dozen times before, didn’t we? What’s wrong?” _Hunk_.

“It can’t work if not all of us are trying!” _Allura._

Keith’s mouth ran dry, his eyelids twitched, and he knew he was going to be called out any second now. It was his fault, after all. They hadn’t been able to work together, to _form Voltron_ , because he’d been too occupied with hiding his thoughts and feelings away. He had led them into dangerous missions, aware of his doubts and fears, but unable to voice them. Someone, anyone-

“Lance.”

Shiro’s reserved voice cut through the air like a sharp knife, like a gunshot; a short explosion, right before dead silence. Keith was so confused by the name that he couldn’t help but open his eyes and forget about the exercise. Everyone else seemed to have done the same.

“This is bullshit!”

Before anyone could react, Lance was on his feet, his breath going quickly, his cheeks tainted in a deep red, arms fidgeting around wildly.

“Why dig around in my mind if there’s nothing to find there anyway? Last I remember, my brain capacity could be stored on a paper plane!”

Part of Keith wanted to bite back; it wasn’t like Lance hadn’t _asked_ for those insults by _initiating_ them, and it wasn’t really fair that he brought it up as a justification for having secrets that endangered the whole group; but Keith kept quiet. For some reason, he wanted to hear the end of this, instead of making it worse like he had the day before — besides, who was he to judge? If not Lance, then _he_ would have undoubtedly been the one to be called out eventually.

“I don’t even know why I’m here? We’re six paladins, so I guess if I’m too dumb for this, someone else can take my spot! I-I don’t want to do this anymore!”

He didn’t wait for a reply, instead turned on his heel and stormed towards the exit. Hunk, Pidge and Allura called after him, but he ignored it all. _Again_. It had been unnerving before, and it wasn’t any less out of character now.

A cold silence engulfed them afterwards, the four remaining paladins still sitting on the floor and exchanging looks as if to find someone to take the initiative.

“What...just happened?” Hunk eventually said and scratched his neck nervously. He was Lance’s closest friend, yet none of this seemed to make sense to him. He’d seemingly not even suspected anything.

“So...it’s Lance?” Pidge asked nonchalantly and grabbed her laptop as if to reconfirm this new-found information with whatever she’d come up with before. It didn’t take long before she frowned and kept shaking her head. Something wasn’t adding up, and Keith had a hunch what it was.

“That would explain why we had trouble locating and contacting him and the red lion, and also why we couldn’t form Voltron, but it’s still no explanation for our whole communication lacking. If anything, the rest of us should still be able to work together, right?”

She looked over to Allura for a sign of agreement or objection, but the princess didn’t seem to be sure about this herself, focused on the mice that had sat down in front of her.

“In theory, the...malfunction of one lion paladin should not affect the entire rest of the team, no. Unless...”

She looked up slowly and met Keith’s eyes, as if asking if her theory was correct; which, of course, it was. There was no other logical explanation — the black lion was the head and thus mind of Voltron, in both a literal and a figurative way, so the only one who could cause the whole team to crumble was the black paladin.

Him.

He wanted to defend himself, find an explanation that didn’t turn him into the black sheep that had let the rest of the group down, but he couldn’t — this mess had put them in danger way too many times already, and as little as he liked it, he had to confront it.

“I have...considered myself being the reason for our poorly going missions,” he started carefully, pausing when Shiro stepped closer, but decidedly didn’t take Lance’s spot, as if to make it clear that he wasn’t going to substitute anyone here.

“Why didn’t you talk to us?” Pidge asked after a moment of silence, still busily typing away on her laptop and not even looking up as she spoke.

“I didn’t know what to say,” Keith admitted. In all honesty, he didn’t even know what to say _now_. This whole mess had started with the stupid shape-shifter, but it wouldn’t have escalated like this if it weren’t for his insecurity and his fear of getting hurt. He could blame Lance for how coldblooded he had seemed, but that would only scratch the surface of the whole problem.

“I suppose I was-” he stopped himself and shook his head to correct the statement. “I _am_ worried that I’m not as much part of the group as everyone else is. That I’m making myself vulnerable and will get hurt in the process. I’m not used to being around people and it...it’s scary.”

He didn’t expect anyone to make fun of him for his honesty — at least that much he was sure of. They were too considerate to hurt him like that. What he expected even less, though, was for Pidge to put her laptop aside wordlessly, get up, walk over to him and reach out to help him up. He stared at her blankly for a moment, but took her hands eventually, surprised by the force with which she pulled him up and into a tight, warm, loving hug.

“You’re stupid,” she said calmly, but he could hear that her voice was close to cracking. “But I understand you. It’s hard to let your guard down around others, and sometimes I still have trouble doing it. But you _are_ part of the group, like everyone, you hear me?”

They stood motionlessly for a moment, before Keith realized he should probably reciprocate, so he wrapped his arms around Pidge’s shoulders carefully and threw a look over to Hunk, who smiled and gave him a thumbs-up, Allura, who nodded reassuringly, and eventually Shiro, who gave him the characteristic smile Keith had grown to cherish over the course of years.

“Thanks, Pidge. And all of you,” he said eventually when they both let go. He noticed that the warm feeling hadn’t faded at all, and he still felt safe and secure in the midst of his friends.

“Anytime, Keith. But, uh...”

“I know.”

He was feeling a little better about their situation, but there was still Lance. Someone needed to talk to him. Maybe Keith could use it as an opportunity to settle their conflict for good — Lance was worried about his position as a paladin, maybe even his position as their _friend_ , and Keith mostly felt the same. But they wouldn’t be able to move onward if they didn’t even try.

“I’ll talk to him,” he offered eventually. “I’m probably not his first choice, but it will have to make do.”

“You can always count on us if you need help, Keith.”

Somehow, he managed to smile.

“Thank you, Allura.”


End file.
